


Colourblind

by CasGetYourShotgun



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, Dream Cycle - H. P. Lovecraft
Genre: (also this is kind of technically alternate history???), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ghouls, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, M/M, Oblivious Randolph Carter, is it really a ship if nobody's written one of these?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29886342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasGetYourShotgun/pseuds/CasGetYourShotgun
Summary: Almost everyone has at least one colour they cannot see. Usually, this is some shade of brown. Sometimes it's blue, or green, or hazel, or grey. Randolph Carter was born unable to seered,and nobody knows why.
Relationships: Randolph Carter/Richard Upton Pickman
Kudos: 5





	Colourblind

**Author's Note:**

> I have no good explanation for this, but the idea wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it.  
> Beta'd by Cass.  
> Title from [this](https://auideas.tumblr.com/post/129099542217/fanfiction-titles) list of titles because it was this or cheesy pop lyrics.  
> If you're looking for more Carter/Pickman ridiculousness, [I have a Tumblr](https://mollyencrypted.tumblr.com/tagged/carter-x-pickman).

Almost everyone has at least one colour they cannot see. Usually, this is some shade of brown. Sometimes it's blue, or green, or hazel, or grey. Randolph Carter was born unable to see _red_ , and nobody knows why.

He isn't colourblind. He can pick up and distinguish every colour, save for that one particular shade of blood-red. In place of this color, he perceives only a void, the same void that should replace brown or blue or green or hazel or grey or something _sensible_. Nobody has eyes that colour. And yet, there are no other factors that could explain his curious insensitivity. 

It's not polite to ask someone about the colour they cannot see, and so Carter manages to go through life without having to explain it to anybody, or even think about it too often. Sometimes even he forgets he has a soulmate. 

He doesn't feel like he's missing much - if his soulmate is a woman, then the universe has played some cruel trick on them both, and if they're a man… well, it hasn't been _illegal_ since the mid-1800s, but the match would be frowned upon by most people he knows. Either way, it's probably better for all concerned if he just doesn't look for them. They're only missing _grey_ , after all. Nobody needs grey _that_ badly. And he has cats and correspondence - that's _enough_.

No, Randolph Carter isn't bothered by his impossible soulmate, or by the gap in his vision that shouldn't exist. What he _is_ bothered by is the way that void disappears.

It just...stops existing one day. The binding of the books on his shelves is no longer ink-black, but scarlet. He knows that he would remember meeting the eyes of someone whose irises were that colour, so he knows that he _hasn't_. 

Generally speaking, he doesn't much like making eye contact with anybody - he's trying to avoid meeting his soulmate, after all. The fact that he'd made that contact with anybody on that day had been an accident.

The fact of it was that Carter, a seasoned explorer of the Dreamlands, knew of most creatures there by reputation, and upon discovering that some of those creatures were not just present but _prominent_ in the artwork of one of his fellow Bostonians, had wanted to reach out. It was always pleasant to meet a fellow dreamer. And Richard Upton Pickman turned out to be taller than him, and Carter felt obliged to look up, and Pickman looked down. Their eyes met, and Carter _refused_ to be disappointed that the other man's eyes were a shade of grey that he'd seen before. His companion looked slightly startled, however, and the following discussion ended up being far friendlier than Carter had assumed it would be from Pickman's earlier expression.

Carter isn't certain whether Pickman's offer of a private tour of his studio is a proposition or not, but he _does_ want that tour, and he's rather good at turning people down.

* * *

The offer turns out to be genuine, but so is the proposition, and Carter has never been in the position of having to explain to somebody that they can't be soulmates before. It isn't something that can really be _mistaken._

He believes Pickman is telling the truth about Carter being _his_ \- his work is devoid enough of the middling-pale grey that should be a fixture of his palette to verify _that_ \- but it simply isn't possible for the reverse to be true.

It's an awkward conversation that leaves both of them feeling somewhat uncomfortable, but Carter wants to carry on as planned - Pickman's work might be disturbing, and his demeanor macabre, but those things suit Carter's own interests well - and so they do, with the unspoken agreement to pretend the previous five minutes never happened.

And then they stop outside of one door, and Pickman turns to him and asks:

"Out of interest, what _was_ your missing colour?"

"...Red. Blood-red."

Pickman grins an almost feral sort of grin, and the last shreds of despondency seem to dissipate. "I have some people I'd like you to meet."

And that is how Carter meets his first ghouls - Pickman's family, as he calls them. He tries not to balk too obviously at the smell, because that would be incredibly rude, and he lets Pickman make introductions and teach him a few useful words in their language ('hello', 'goodbye', and 'help'), and doesn't ask why exactly this meeting is taking place. It's somewhat reassuring to know that his colour was technically a possibility for one species, but it doesn't actually _clarify_ anything - it's not as if any of these creatures was responsible for the shift in his vision, after all. He endures the experience, however, because this is clearly important to his companion, and it's always useful to be able to ask for help in as many languages as possible, and it is not a hardship to spend an evening with someone who is, as far as he's concerned, rather attractive, even if the universe _is_ taunting him.

* * *

It's a pity that Pickman can't be Carter's soulmate, because they get on tremendously well. They continue meeting regularly to continue Carter's lessons, or simply to converse themselves.

Most people, as it turns out, find his friend off-putting and unpleasant, and they aren't _wrong_ . Pickman _is_ off-putting and unpleasant to most people, and he doesn't make any attempts to hide that from Carter - for some reason, Carter is one of the very few people he's interested in accommodating. (He asks about it once - as it turns out, Pickman doesn't like people very much. Playing up the most disconcerting parts of his personality ensures people leave him alone, and anyone who wants to spend time with him _anyway_ is probably tolerable. Carter is more than tolerable.)

They aren't lovers, but they're friends, and it will hurt when Pickman eventually leaves humanity (and Carter) behind. It's inevitable - Carter has seen the shifting in his features, the almost canine cast that had always been present but was now impossible to ignore. (There's something _important_ that Carter is missing here, but he can't quite place it.)

It _will_ hurt, but it's for the best. Pickman has never truly seemed to belong amongst humans, chafes at their society, and, well, he probably would be better off without Carter there to remind him of their one-sided bond. Plenty of people live perfectly happy lives without their soulmate - Carter has _met_ people who know very well who their soulmates are but didn't stay with them. Many of them seemed wholly unphased by it.

It won't hurt forever.

But then Warren invites him to visit him in Florida, and he accepts, and everything goes wrong, and he returns to Boston having realised that he doesn't actually have anything to _lose_ by admitting his feelings for Pickman. Human life is so painfully short.

Except Pickman is already gone.

* * *

And that's where Carter assumes he'll have to leave things, without any real closure, until he finds himself lost in the Vale of Pnath and has the idea that Pickman might be able to help him out of his predicament.

Pickman doesn't bear much resemblance now to the human Carter had met so long ago, but the almost feral grin that splits his face when he sees Carter again is the same. So is the look in his eyes, but the eyes themselves -

Their eyes meet, light grey to blood-red, and everything Carter had thought about asking is forgotten in favour of simply -

_'Oh!'_


End file.
